


Sun Tzu Said It Best

by Tink_Wondering



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: AU where Phil and everyone else lives at the tower, Deaf Clint Barton, M/M, Spoiler in the End Notes, Vague Tags, kind of civil war, less AU than what I usually write, set vaguely after Avengers (2012), with every character I wanted to insert no matter their timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-15 04:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29927991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tink_Wondering/pseuds/Tink_Wondering
Summary: The tower is at war, again.Clint and Phil, at a stalemate.Is victory as sweet as it promises to be?
Relationships: Clint Barton/Phil Coulson
Comments: 8
Kudos: 16





	Sun Tzu Said It Best

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [ClintCoulson Appreciation Week](https://clintcoulsonremix.tumblr.com/post/639134370884665344/announcing-clintcoulson-appreciation-week), aka CCAW. However, I cannot differentiate March from May it seems... Instead, this is an encouragement to participate for that week (when it will come)!  
> Spoiler in the end notes if you want to know right now what's going on, though it's not that hard to deduce as you're reading.

“So, it has come to this,” Clint said tonelessly, this was no time for emotions.

“It appears so,” Phil—no, in this war, he was Coulson—responded just as blandly, making sure to face Clint directly so he could read his lips. Clint found him adorable; even with death looming, Coulson took the time to be sure that he understood him—not that it was going to change his mind, he had a mission to complete.

Clint had his gun levelled at his ex-handler’s head—small mercy from the goodness of his heart for the injury he knew still twinged on rainy days, and to keep his suit immaculate, even in death. The butt of the rifle—improved with new functions thanks to Stark—was resting comfortably against his shoulder, his aim unwavering, and as the good Captain liked to say, he could do this all day.

Coulson’s was pointing at his heart, a silent plea to tell Clint that he was bigger than this. 

(Coulson had gotten into the habit of telling Clint he had heart—that it was his, just as Coulson’s was Clint’s—to wash away Loki’s memory. The direction of his gun at the moment was just another way to remind him of that fact. Clint was almost persuaded to defect to Phil’s—Coulson’s, damn—side, but he had to hold on for his people, Coulson be doubly damned.) 

His gun was smaller than Clint’s but bulkier. The chamber had been adjusted to accommodate the new projectiles—smaller, faster, more silent—that Clint had refused; if he was going to do this, he was going to do it old school. He accepted the modifications to enhance is already perfect aim, but his enemies would know and feel what they had coming their way.

Next to them, Clint could see the war was raging on: Tasha was raining bullets on Steve who’d taken cover behind the counter, which could only last so long against Tasha’s might; Bruce was provoking Tony who, for once, seemed reluctant to poke the Hulk to come out, his attacks delivered with less power than usual; Vision and Thor seemed to be a good match, both restrained to their weapon instead of their powers, both clumsily firing without any real directional purpose, they’d probably take a teammate before each other at the rate they were going; Wanda didn’t stand much of a chance against Sam, but it looked like she wasn’t playing fair either, and Clint certainly did not blame her—he may or may not have encouraged her with a subtle jazz hand signal—she was better off using all her resources when at a disadvantage; as for Darcy, who should be an easy prey, she seemed to be using her, um, _personal_ weapons against Bucky to distract him, and it seemed to be working considering the wide-eyed look he flitted to-and-fro from her bosom to some highly important detail in the ceiling—either hoping for it to fall on his head or for an escape route.

As for his situation, Clint didn’t know if he should be happy or angry with Darcy for having brought Coulson into this. On the one hand, it finally showed him he was healed enough to get back into the game—which Clint had been trying to make him see for weeks—but on the other hand, it brought them to this stalemate, neither one truly ready to shoot the other.

“Is that what you call being a leader?” Coulson says, breaking his musings. If Clint didn’t know better, he’d think Coulson was egging him on. As it was, he knew his ex-handler was trying to manipulate him into revealing his strategy since his team’s was so apparent.

“Is that what you call being a good agent?” Clint retorted, tilting his head in Steve’s direction who clearly needed help. Tasha had him now cornered, and he’d soon have to either surrender or face his demise.

Doubt clouded Coulson’s eyes for a moment—would he waver from his mission?—but the grip on his gun tightened, his focus back on the task at hand. Clint understood the hesitation, their plan was to divide to conquer, each with their own quarry, which may have looked good on paper, but it failed in its execution. Their strategy had clearly not been the optimal choice considering it divided them too. 

He wondered if Coulson had come up with the plan and chosen Clint or he’d simply been tasked to take care of him. With the strong heads on his side, Clint didn’t doubt that Coulson had been forced to accept the plan, none of the other Avengers quite compared to Coulson’s strategic mind. The more experienced agent would have known from the start this wasn’t the best plan of action, but maybe his heart wasn’t truly into it. At least, Clint hoped that faced with his devastatingly handsome self, Coulson had started to doubt. It was lucky for Clint’s side that Tony had gifted them the improved weapons before the war had blown out, if he hadn’t the situation would’ve been completely different. 

Clint saw Tasha laying Steve to waste from the corner of his eyes; he smirked, his plan was going just as he expected. She’d need to hit Bucky next, who would be too distracted to notice her presence in time; Bucky was still hesitating between propriety and the need to win. Then Darcy would repeat her number on Tony, who wouldn’t have any qualms about overtly ogling, while Wanda would purposefully place herself in front of one of Tony’s non-lethal hits and play the damsel in distress for Vision’s benefit. With Tony distracted and Tasha on the prowl for her next victim, Bruce would be in the right place to help Thor dispose of Vision.

The pieces were already falling into place, and Phil realized his error too late.

“Well, played Barton, but you haven’t won yet.” Still facing Clint fully, he slowly moved so that his back was against the wall.

“Yet,” Clint cockily replied with a wink. “Won’t you try to fight back?”

“I know when I’m defeated.” Coulson shrugged his shoulder as if to say ‘ _What can you do_?’.

“Then give me what I want, and I’ll make sure you live. Join my side, Phil, aren’t I pretty enough for you?”

“Usually, but I think today your allure has lost some of its shine.” He pointedly looked behind Clint where he knew his team was assembling to defeat the last standing enemy. The others must be sitting silently where they died as they’ve decided beforehand, though he was surprised not to have heard Tony whine about dying yet.

“And here I thought we promised each other for better or for worse, in sickness and in betrayal, until one of us breaks down, kills Tony and jail do us part,” Clint pouted.

“If I remember correctly, we promised to help the other hide the body and then flee to Canada. Are you already breaking your vow? You’d leave me in jail?” 

Phil—yes, he was back to Phil, damn him—rubbed his chest, like it physically hurt him to think of Clint leaving him behind. Clint was taking a step forward to whisper sweet promises in his ear—that he loved him, that he would never betray him, Nerf games be damned—but Tasha stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“ _Durak дурак_ ,” she whispered, low enough just for him to hear, and Phil to read her lips.

“Right.” Clint took a deep breath; Phil was getting better, fine even. He’d push him to get back into the field just this morning. He lost the easy posture he’d fallen into, his back straight and head held high. “You won’t get to me, harlot!” Phil narrowed his eyes slightly, and Clint winced internally; he’d pay for this one later. “Give up your good, and we’ll let you live.”

“I may have lost my friends in the battle, I may be standing alone in the face of the enemy, but I will not be defeated so easily. You may take my life, but you’ll never take my freedom,” Phil said in a calm but no less passionate tone. He blushed pink when his dead teammates—childhood heroes included—cheered him on.

“Braveheart, Phil, really?” Clint said over the commotion. Clint sometimes forgot how much of a nerd Phil truly was. He kept preciously the pictures of teenaged Phil in DnD costume; for blackmail purposes mainly, although when looking at it, it was always sure to bring a smile to his face. 

Phil simply raised an eyebrow in response, and it was Clint’s turn to blush. He might have forced Phil to watch that movie one too many times, but Clint was a sucker for movies with archery, and though there wasn’t much of it, it had also rousing speeches, action, a David-against-Goliath storyline and men in kilts.

“Can you fulfill a man’s last wish before his death?” Clint leniently inclined his head, like a benevolent king offering pardon to one of his subjects. “Answer me this question truthfully: you acted out your hearing aids fizzing out, didn’t you?”

“Yes.” He admitted because Phil used his ‘Now is not the time to lie’ voice, but he added quickly, “Not my fault if, when I talked louder, you used it to spy on our plans, or that those proved to be traps.”

“Then we deserve our fate, Oh great eye in the sky.” Clint preened at the approval in Phil’s tone until Tony booed from his deathbed, though he shut up with one glare. Phil then directed a rare, bright, public smile his way, and Clint felt his heart flutter—even after all this time. “I’d say do what you want with me, but I fear the ideas it’ll give you,” Phil added fondly.

“Oh, I have plenty of ideas,” Clint leered at him.

“I have suggestions if you want.” Darcy quipped from behind him, Clint high-fived her.

“And I am traumatized,” Wanda gagged. It was Tasha’s turn to high-five a new pupil.

“Can we get this show on the road, so we can get on with our lives?” Tony whined from the floor.

“No comments from the dead,” Darcy warned.

“I agree with the whipper-snapper, can we bring this up to a jitterbug?” Bucky commented.

“I do not understand the implication of fish or insects in this situation, but I feel I do agree with the sentiment. Lady Jane promised to face swap me tonight,” Thor added. Vision looked just as puzzled, but he was too much a stickler for the rules to say anything at the moment considering his status as deceased.

“Facetime, buddy,” Darcy piped up. “You mean Facetime. Face swap is—”

“That’s quite easy to understand,” Steve started at the same time. “He means—” 

“Thank you, Darcy, Captain, but I think we all got the gist of what he means, and we do not need a lesson on the multiple technologies Midgard has to offer or its various expressions through the ages; it can be done at a later time.” Phil sent a sharp look in Tony’s direction while he addressed the other two, not even bothering with words—the other man shut his mouth quickly, stopping his commentary on either the insult or the accidental innuendo. When Phil returned his attention back to Clint, he held the gun loosely in one hand, the other facing palm up to show he admitted defeat. “Before we’re mobbed by a pack of zombies, do you want to do the honour?”

He heard Tasha shout a quick “Clint!” in warning, but he ignored her in favour of stepping closer to Phil to grab the blue tail attached to his belt, which would 1) give him a chance to grope the man in all legitimacy and 2) declare his team—Purple Glory vs Avenger’s Weapon, Phil would later point out that he had no input in naming the teams, either one—the winner. Sadly, Clint was too confident in his not-yet-achieved success, and Phil used his approach to grab at his purple tail before he did and claim the victory for his team. 

Then chaos ensued. Phil’s team hurrahed, overjoyed by the last-minute steal, while Clint’s claimed that the older man had already admitted defeat, Thor’s cries of injustice could probably be heard from Asgard. 

However, Phil seemed unconcerned by the anarchy. With an apology kiss to the archer’s lips, he whispered, “All warfare is based on deception. You’ve just forgotten that I play the long game.”

Clint should be annoyed that he’d been so easily played, but he was glad to see Phil had regained his confidence. 

Tasha’s slap against the back of his head was less pleasant, though.

**Author's Note:**

> The big spoiler: this a nerf war


End file.
